


a shock of blue

by flyingkumquats



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Gen, Sort Of, halloween fic, hence the subject matter, horror motifs, it was also written before last weekend's concert, this is... weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 06:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12576168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingkumquats/pseuds/flyingkumquats
Summary: Jongup wakes up in a strange room, unable to shake the feeling that something is about to go horribly wrong.





	a shock of blue

There’s a voice in his head, and it sounds a lot like Himchan. It’s all frustrated and tired, but it still has that strange fondness that always manages to colour his words. 

“Wake up, Jongup-ssi,” it says.

He opens his eyes and immediately regrets it, because the sudden intrusion of light is far too bright.

His eyelids slam shut instinctively, but the ghost of the intense exposure lingers; little flecks of flesh coloured neon, stark against the darkness.

Unwilling to risk his tenuous grasp on vision, Jongup strikes out with his hands and feet instead, tries to assess his location by touch alone. Finds himself in the sort of chair that is designed to mock him, the seat just a little too far from the ground for his feet to reach. 

His left foot kicks dead air as the backs of his thighs stick to what feels like cold leather.

In fact, now that he’s thinking about it, the whole room feels cold. And not, like, cool-cold. No, this is a definite chill, the sort that creeps into your pores and puts your bones on ice.

The sound of his chattering teeth is the first thing that he hears.

There’s this weird smell, too. It’s like something is rotting, and the smell has become trapped within the confines of what is presumably 4 walls.

Nothing about this makes him all that keen on opening his eyes, but he’s reaching the limits of what his other senses can tell him. If he wants to know more, he’ll have to risk that cursed light.

Jongup’s eyes are slow to open, even slower to come into focus.

Eventually, he starts to make out the halogen lighting, so bright that it almost glows cyan. Sees the white chipped tiles on the wall. Notices the slightly rusted metal tables laden with tiny pots and clear plastic bottles and tangled cords, and the thick metal door. He takes a breath of stale air, and wishes that he had just kept his damned eyes shut.

The light flickers above his head, a short static buzz of electricity as his surroundings slip into momentary darkness. It’s almost a relief, in a way.

From the depths of the darkness comes the sound of a door slamming shut, then the sound of a muffled, blood-curdling scream.

There’s a tiny prickle of fear, now, and it sets his skin on edge, and this is stupid. He’s just off-kilter because he’s just woken up. That’s it. And the scream? Well, it’s not like it’s an uncommon occurrence. Not when you’re in a group with Jung Daehyun.

This is fine.

It’s all -

The light turns back on, revealing a short, thick set man with rimless glasses and an off white surgical mask. He’s holding something… shiny in his hand, but he’s still too far away for Jongup to make out any discerning features.

Jongup squints as the man starts walking, his steps slow and loud. Then his foot scrapes on the tile, and the sound sets every nerve in Jongup’s body alight.

Or maybe it wasn’t the scrape. Maybe it's the silver blur in the man’s hand, which is starting to settle into something recognisable.

His muscles tense, an instinctive reaction to fight against the sight before him.

Or flee.

He hasn’t decided which.

The metal clamps open, then close, and the sound is all too loud in the silence.

***

He stumbles, falls, and collides into a entirely too solid tiled wall.

He straightens up, hears someone laugh.

Well, he says “someone.” But there is only one person in the whole entire world with that stupid laugh.

He looks up at Himchan, still too off-kilter tons school his face into its usual blank expression. “This is all your fault, hyung,” he says.

“You say that as though it’s a bad thing, Uppie,” and it’s clear that Himchan is also losing a battle with his face, because there they are: those little bunny teeth, shining right at him like gleaming… things.

He’s too annoyed to think of a good metaphor right now.

“Just because you think it’s a good idea to desecrate…”

“Come on, now.”

“To destroy…”

Himchan just shakes his head as Jongup trails off. He looks like he’s enjoying this entirely too much, and he really is…

Just…

_Ugh._

There are not any words to cover the amount of ugh.

Himchan reaches up then, fingers lightly brushing against his chest, his shoulders, on their way to…

His senses are assaulted by the sudden sight of vivid blue hair in the corner of his eye, the gentle pull as Himchan waves the extension in front of his face, the slight scent of chemicals lingering.

Jongup can’t keep looking at it, focuses in on Himchan’s fond smile instead. 

“It’s okay,” he says, grinning that toothy grin. “It’s just a mullet.”

**Author's Note:**

> ... a dream told me to do it?


End file.
